


Cornered

by wyvernwood



Category: The Goblin Emperor - Katherine Addison
Genre: Gags, M/M, Manhandling, Missing Scene, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Groping, Nonconathon Treat, Rape Threats, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-07-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:00:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25045030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernwood/pseuds/wyvernwood
Summary: Tethimar catches Csevet napping the night before Winternight.
Relationships: Csevet Aisava/Eshevis Tethimar
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16
Collections: Nonconathon 2020





	Cornered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sattsuma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sattsuma/gifts).



It was late, and the next day would be even busier than the last. The dance was still going, but gifts were piling up for the Emperor's birthday and they needed to be catalogued. Since becoming the Emperor's secretary, Csevet had not once got a full night's sleep, and he would certainly not get one this night or the next. 

He passed an alcove where he saw the shadow of furnishings. He had a few hours to sleep, but he was so tired already. It could not hurt to take a rest break before the long walk to his quarters. He sat on one of the padded benches, neatly hidden from the view of the hall by the angles of the walls and the lack of a light within. Thoughts of the schedule for the next day skittered across his tired mind. 

As often happened when he fell asleep sitting up, Csevet's dreams were of his days as a courier, sleeping whenever and wherever he could find a warm and quiet place. In this dream he was in a stable, could hear a horse breathing slowly nearby, smell its earthy scent, and for a moment it was comforting. Then the dream shifted toward something darker, and he felt suffocated, choked, as though he'd fallen and been buried under something soft but too dry for comfort. 

Csevet tried to struggle into wakefulness, but when he heard the voice, he froze. Tethimar. That was Eshevis Tethimar's voice. "Look what we found," he said, low but unmistakable. "Pretty jumped up courier marnis, the goblin's pet." 

The suffocating feeling was from some dirty cloth Tethimar had stuffed into Csevet's mouth. He tried to call out, but the little sound he could make was stifled. He didn't think anyone would hear or, if they did, think to go look for the source of the sound. 

"No wonder he's happy to marry that ugly Ceredada girl, when he's got his own pretty courier." Tethimar's hand stroked Csevet's hair, once, twice, then his fist tightened in it and he yanked Csevet's head back. 

The pain was sharp and shocking. Csevet tried to breathe around the cloth gagging him, choked, felt as though he couldn't catch a breath properly. 

"Thou'st been feeding him lies about us, turned him away from our betrothal to the Archduchess," Tethimar said in a vicious whisper, hot breath against Csevet's ear. "We know what the couriers whisper about us, the rumors they spread. Vicious creatures, and thou'rt one, no matter what airs doth give thyself." He leaned over Csevet and pressed their mouths together, not in what Csevet would ever think of as a kiss, but in a most personal and intimate attack, teeth scraping his lips and gums, only softened by the cloth gagging him. 

Tethimar's whole weight was on Csevet, over and around him pressing him deep into the padded bench, pinning one of his arms under his body and the other forearm under Tethimar's arm. Csevet struggled to get out from underneath. He felt his energy sapped by his inability to breathe properly, and when he felt the unmistakable pressure of Tethimar's evident arousal, he wasn't sure if his motion wasn't making things worse. 

Tethimar began to rut himself against Csevet, not wildly, not bucking against him as though he were about to spend. He made disgusting, satisfied grunts with every deliberate thrust. Csevet most definitely was not finding this arousing. He was offended, he was under attack, and if his body reacted as it was doing, mimicking the physical reactions of lust, it was no more meaningful than when a person smiled involuntarily at terrible news, an awkward irrelevancy. He had no idea what to do to stop Tethimar, but he must. He had to. 

Csevet had bitten him, _before_. Is that why he'd stuffed so much cloth in Csevet's mouth? Csevet began to struggle again, panicking at the thought that Tethimar _remembered_.

He was bigger and stronger than Csevet, weighed nearly half again as much, and though Csevet could fight in a courier's scrappy way, Tethimar was trained as a fighter by the best teachers and men at arms the Tethimada had to offer. Csevet was exhausted, nerveless with a paralyzing fear that he had dreaded for what felt like half his lifetime of this man catching him again. He tried to brace himself, get ready to seize whatever chance he could, as Tethimar's hand groped down the back of his not-tight-enough-fitting trousers, cupping the roundness of his backside, fingers probing between the cheeks. Tethimar jabbed roughly and Csevet was ashamed to find tears springing to his eyes. 

"When he has no more use for thee, canst be sure thou'lt be ours, will thee or no, pretty courier." Tethimar gave his ass a squeeze and his nails dug in. Csevet was sure there would be marks, the sharp pain of the strong grip almost made him tear up again, but he _would not_. Then Tethimar shifted his grip, and Csevet thought, this is the moment.

He fumbled the rag out of his mouth while Tethimar's hands were otherwise occupied and threw it at him, then Csevet ran. 

Tethimar might be stronger, but Csevet was faster. Heedless, he ran through empty halls and only slowed when he reached a part of the Untheileneise that guards were patrolling, edocharei here and there tidying or on an errand. Csevet had lost all desire to go to his quarters and sleep. There were many more gifts to catalogue piling up in the Alcethmeret, he thought. That could easily occupy his entire night. 

And he could not say anything of what had happened, not to anyone he was likely to be able to confide in soon, at least. If word of this was to reach Edrehasivar, it would set in motion political disaster he did not like to contemplate.

And then, of course, after the events of the next night, when Csevet thought of it, he no longer felt there was any point in telling anyone at all. Easier to try to forget it had happened. Not like Tethimar would be hurting anyone ever again. Cala Athmaza had provided all the revenge Csevet should ever need in that regard. 

He wished, though, that he could stop having the nightmares. He really needed what little sleep he could find the time for.


End file.
